


my allegiance belongs to mrs de winter

by danihi



Series: my allegiance belongs to mrs de winter [1]
Category: Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca - Levay/Kunze
Genre: Angst, F/F, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealousy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexually Frustrated, idk if this should just be plain ole cheating but since they havent established anything idk, im so sorry that the second fic under the danvich tag is just smut KLJDFS, lets just call it what it is, the sex is pretty one sided so dannys doing all the work but ich is rly into it i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danihi/pseuds/danihi
Summary: It's a little before the Ball at Manderley and Mrs Danvers has a costume suggestion for the new Mrs de Winter.
Relationships: Maxim de Winter/Narrator (Rebecca), Mrs Danvers/I, Mrs Danvers/Ich, Mrs. Danvers/Ich, Narrator (Rebecca)/Mrs. Danvers (Rebecca)
Series: my allegiance belongs to mrs de winter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818586
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	my allegiance belongs to mrs de winter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer; this is my first fic ever, I have never written words before (that I've published) I've only ever written creative short stories for school work and I draw primarily (I can't believe I'm promoting here but check out my art at @thegirlisuedtobe on tumblr, they're all under the rebecca das musical tag), but this ship will be the death of me so here I am I guess,,,, legit just made this account to post danvich fanfic I--
> 
> Shout out to @solattea on tumblr for the idea <3<3 this is completely and utterly ur fault i love u <3

“You don’t believe me?”

“Why should I, Mrs Danvers?” I dared challenge her authority, “I know this is all a ploy for you to ruin things between Maxim and I—”

She crossed the distance between us like lightning through the sky. I shivered. Her eyes bore holes into mine, her unflinching aura enveloping me; tendrils of dark shadows played at the corners of my vision. I felt suffocated but I could not turn away. She had boxed me into a case of cold air, though I could step away from her—add distance between us that I so desperately needed—my feet held their place. The hem of her dress nipping at my toes. And then, all too quickly she’d snapped back into the distance, looking forlornly out through the balcony and her attention drifting to the sea. The room became all too hot all too suddenly. I swayed a little, my legs finally unlocking themselves.

“True.”

I found myself waiting for her to look at me again. To feel that cold gaze sweep along my body. But she didn’t.

“Mrs Danvers, your allegiance is to my husband. Why would you bite the hand that feeds you?”

She shot me a look; I swore I saw electricity sparkle in her eye. I felt like doubling over, I shouldn’t be here. None of this should be happening and yet—

“ _My_ allegiance,” she paused, “belongs to Mrs de Winter.”

I shivered again. A cold draft whipped itself between my legs. I didn’t like it when she talked of Rebecca, I felt almost jealous.

“I am Mrs de Winter.”

She smirked, “then, Mrs de Winter, why don’t you take my advice.”

****

It was an entire fortnight until we finally spoken to each other. The day of the party was only a few nights away and my dress had finally arrived. I worried incessantly about it and when Mrs Danvers finally strode in with the package in hand it only seemed to grow worse.

“Your package.”

She set it down without even a backwards glance. She must already know what it is of. My face burned, I couldn’t believe that I had heeded her, and now I wanted to wear anything but this.

I pulled it out of the tissue paper it was so carefully wrapped in. The dressmakers in London were surely professionals, all the details I had sketched for them appeared and, funnily enough, the ones that I hadn’t.  
Shucking off my nightgown I attempted to put it on by myself. Halfway through I knew that there was no way I could manage this on my own. I paused and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a cupcake that had exploded in the oven. I shouldn’t have done this; I shouldn’t have taken Mrs Danvers’ jest seriously. Did I not have any confidence in Maxim?

I stared at the girl in the mirror, I looked barely a woman.  
I took it off with great struggle and flopped onto the bed, my conversation with Mrs Danvers playing in my mind. I didn’t have any time left to prepare a different costume.

****

Manderley’s walls were suddenly lit up with a new sort of glamour. Despite its age, it stood proud and regal, and all I could do was shrink, the pit in my stomach sinking deeper and deeper until I could feel it beneath my belly. My hands shook at every opportunity—I had clenched them all day lest anyone figure out that I had no idea of what had to be done. Mrs Danvers was the first to notice.

She had offered me tea to help calm my nerves. Nothing ever seemed to slip past her. I couldn’t take my mind off of her. These past weeks I’d run our encounter in Rebecca’s room over and over. There must’ve been something else, something she hadn’t said or even implied. I wanted to think of Maxim, I wanted to see him see me in awe. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me.

There was a knock at the door. Clarice peaked her head inside and smiled at me. My nerves calmed for a moment but shot back up as she helped me dress. She hummed softly at the hem of my dress, straightening out any folds. I took the hat from the table and put it on.

Everything fit. And yet…

“See for yourself, Mrs de Winter,” she had said, “He doesn’t love you, why would he? From Rebecca to you? Have you perhaps had the chance to think why he would have chosen you?”

I felt dizzy.

“He’s a monster for her.”

The pit in my stomach clawed its way to the surface.

“Haven’t you noticed how he’s yelled at you? Every time it’s always been about Rebecca, hasn’t it? The place he met you at was where they went for their honeymoon. Don’t you see? He’s using you to be a stand in for Mrs d—"

“Madam, shall I go out and announce you?” Clarice asked, snapping me from my thoughts. I muttered out an answer and she ducked dutifully out the room.

“He wants Rebecca, who wouldn’t.”

I pulled open the door and left the room hoping to leave Mrs Danvers’ voice with it.

There he was standing in a suit at the bottom of the stairs. My Maxim. I put on the bravest smile that I could force and started to descend.

In that moment, time seemed to slow, I was so intimately aware of every detail in the room; the brightness of the chandelier, how the lights refracted through a million shards of glass, there was no shadow in sight, no place to hide. And their faces, each of their faces in awe, in amusement, in horrified shock.

Beatrice was the first to say anything. She had whispered it—a name that wasn’t mine—but the entire crowd had heard. Maxim turned his head and I caught his gaze for a moment before it swept across the length of my body.

His face contorted into a million emotions. It was as if I was looking through a fractured mirror, but whichever one was the Maxim I loved, he was not there among them.

His voice bellowed through the main hall. It bounced off the ceiling and echoed into my ear—and yet it felt as if his words passed through me. My body had already run from the scene, but my mind was still there. I could see it now, even though I lay panting on my bed with hot tears running down my cheeks, the commotion rippling across the crowd with Maxim storming off and Beatrice running to calm him down. The whispers tugged at my dress.

I sucked in air and tore at it. I didn’t care that it had cost more than a year’s salary from Mrs Van Hopper, I wanted it off of me. Every second it hugged my skin I felt it burn like hot poison. I threw the crinoline over the top of my head and onto the wooden floor with a good thwack. I discarded my undergarments too, the burning between my legs threatened to set me ablaze.

All I could do was stand there heaving.

I’d already forgotten what Maxim had yelled but I heard Mrs Danvers’ voice like a strangling cold breeze wrapping itself around my leg, my waist, my chest and my neck.

She whispered into my flesh, “He’s a monster for her.”

I held my body tightly in the way that Maxim would no longer do. I held it in an effort to keep it from falling apart. I dug my nails into it to tie my soul down—an effort to remind myself I was not shadow, I was not whispers, I was not a name on the mouth of a mourning woman’s lips.  
I sank to my knees and pulled a blanket off of the bed, curling up on the floor.

I couldn’t bear to try and fill the two-person bed.

****

I woke disoriented, still naked and on the cold hard floor. I wiped the saliva that had travelled down my chin. I stood and the blanket fell off of my shoulders. The cold suddenly bringing me out of my stupor. I shivered over to the closet and pulled my nightgown noisily from the hanger. It clattered to the floor.

I groaned and rubbed the nape of my neck. My back throbbed with a dull ache as my muscles twinged in their knotted form, begging to be massaged with the strength I did not have. I sat myself on the bed and mentally counted all the places that I felt pain in until finally addressing the pulsating feeling between my legs. It had been there when I went to sleep and when I had woken up.

I flopped onto the bed and let my body relax into the softness of the mattress. The pounding didn’t leave. The thought of going to the bathroom flitted across my mind but I knew it wasn’t that. My fingers inched their way from my belly towards the source. I stroked at it, without meaning to, I whimpered.

Shame flooded through my body and I groaned. I turned onto my side. The hands of the clock on my bedside table told me time was passing. I remained still but very much awake. I ran through the scene again and again. Mrs Danvers was right. No, it was all her fault. I didn’t want to see Maxim like this—Maxim isn’t like this. I refused to see the man he was last night to be the man he was before.

But… who was Maxim before? I couldn’t tell anymore.

He had reacted exactly like how she had described he would, and like the fool I was—no, the distrustful coward I was—let her twist Maxim into someone I believed he wasn’t. Or hoped that he wasn’t. Maxim loves me. He loves me.

I sat up. Suddenly, I had newfound strength in my bubbling anger. How could I have been so stupid. She’d already said it was true that she was toying with me. I slipped into the hallway and found her in Rebecca’s room.

“Mrs Danvers!”

She tilted her head to the sound of my voice.

“Mrs Danvers!” I stormed towards her and yanked her shoulder to turn her eyes to mine. My anger died a little as I saw a similar red puffiness surrounding her eyes. But I shook my head. I could care less.

“You told me to wear that god forsaken dress—”

“I never _told_ you, I merely suggested it,” she hissed, and then calmly, “It was your decision in the end.”

“I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re happy for ruining any hope I had with making peace with you, Mrs Danvers, with Rebecca. I hope you’re happy in your stupid misery about a woman who’s dead.”

Her eyes widened and I felt danger. “ _You_ were the one who wanted to know about Rebecca and Maxim,” she took a step forward and, instinctively, I stepped back, “ _You_ were the one who chose to wear that dress. _You_ are the only one who’s let yourself down.”

I spat back, “You just wanted to remind him of Rebecca, it’s not his fault he responded like that, how else could he have reacted to seeing me in her dress? Even you, Mrs Dan—"

“Didn’t I tell you,” she grabbed my arm, “He’s a monster. He doesn’t love you.”

“Then perhaps you’re a monster too!” I yelled back, I wanted to hurt her, “She never loved you either!”

She pinned me against the mirror. She’d lost her composure for a second and now we were in a position where some disgusting part of me wanted her to lose all of it against me. With one hand pinning both my arms above my head she took the other and tilted my chin up. Her face was so close I could feel her breath heavy and warm.

“I’m. not. you,” she growled, “Nor am I him. Don’t you dare compare me to that beast.”

I rammed my mouth onto hers and bit her as I pulled hastily away.  
She looked at me blankly, a drop of blood flowering where I had split her lip. She dabbed at it with her finger and saw a faint red smudge. Her eyes flicked to mine with a different kind of danger. And before I knew it, she was on my mouth.

Her tongue barely needed to force itself into my mouth. All too willingly I had let her in. The ache in between my legs grew stronger. I need more of her inside me.

She ripped herself away from me and I groaned in protest. She took the hand that had been pinning my arms and jammed it under my chin, banging my head against the mirror. Pain bloomed across the back of my head. With her other hand, she dipped a finger into the plunging neckline of my nightgown and with one fluid stroke tore it open exposing my body.

She jammed two fingers between my legs. I arched my back instinctively, my entire body aching for hers.

Her pace was punishing, it was rough and callous and un-lady like, I let my mind rest and focused on her fingers, the way they filled my emptiness with hatred and lust. It felt like fire and it threatened to consume me whole. I pushed against her shoulder as if doing so would lessen the heat; give us the distance we should be obeying.

Something stronger escaped from my lips and, knowing I was close, she pulled her fingers out of me. I looked at her almost betrayed, confusion flitted across her eyes until the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smirk. With her wet hand she took my chin and tilted it towards the mirror.

“Look at yourself, Mrs de Winter.”

And I did. And I saw myself naked and pleading. A resounding wave rippled through my body from between my legs. Shame overcame me and I snatched my chin from Mrs Danver’s grasp, bowing it low and letting my hair fall as a curtain to shield me of the woman I had become.  
I grit my teeth. I wanted to come here to tell her how she was wrong, how much I loved Maxim, but now all I’ve done—

She took my thigh and spread my legs, jamming her fingers into me. I cried out. I saw her smile as she worked her hands inside me. Far too soon my body convulsed as I climaxed.

She wasted no time removing herself, taking her embroidered handkerchief and wiping her hands of the whole affair. I felt the burning tears spill over my cheeks again. I didn’t have the strength to even cover myself. There was no point. I closed my eyes hoping that it might’ve been a dream, that I’d wake up and find myself against the cold floor again, but to wish that it was I’d have to admit that I wanted Mrs Danvers to touch me the way only a man should—the way I should want Maxim to.

“I am not against you.”

I looked up and she had extended another nightgown for me to wear. I took it reluctantly.

“Your allegiance is to Mrs de Winter,” I said, half a question and half a statement.

“And who are you?”

She left the room. I eased myself off the dressing table and whilst I put the new dress on, I glimpsed myself at the mirror.


End file.
